He picked a good day to be bad

Lucky for Drew I just started reading "The Ways of Boys.". It was in that little new release section of the library that we pass by before checking out our books. I think this section is especially for harried moms. I was a tad disappointed that there wasn't any chick lit. out that I hadn't read, but I figured I was due a parenting book.
So anyway, this book talks about the impulsivity of boys along with addressing their competitiveness and wiggelieness. I haven't finished it but so far It has been helpful and much of what it says rings true for my very male household.
Today, David came and found me and casually mentioned that Drew had just peed on the living room floor. I walk into the living room to find Drew scrubbing a spot on the carpet with the bathroom hand towel. "Mom, I peed on the floor."
"Well, finish cleaning it and go to your room, come out when you can apologize and tell me what you did wrong."
Exactly thirty seconds later, "Mom, sorry I peed on the floor. I should pee in the toilet."
I know it probably sounds bizarre that I didn't beat his bottom, but Drew seemed every bit as puzzled as David and I on why he urinated like a bad puppy. I think he was just playing around in his underwear and airing things out (seen him do that before) and just started pottying. The floor was barely damp, we were having a great day, and I saw no reason to ruin it over something relatively minor, I mean Keith and I had a friend in college who would forget where the bathroom was from time to time in the wee hours of a Saturday night and heck, we still hung out with him. You just had to point it out to him the next day and he would take care of the damage.
In other news, I had to take my car in to the shop to get my side view mirror put back on, I have accidents from time to time too. This one stemmed from being in too much of a hurry backing out of the garage. David was with me and picture the scuzziest auto body shop waiting room you can. Plastic couches, sun faded pictures from the early nineties, grease stained carpet and the smell of gasoline and stale coffee. David didn't see any of that. He sniffed appreciatively as we walked in, "Oh, diesel, thanks for bringing me to a place with my favorite smell." Really?! Then, of course, he had to use the bathroom. And he started opening drawers to reveal shaving cream and razors, I am trying not to even let my body touch the walls and he is exclaming, "Wow! Looks like someone lives here!". Thankfully, Keith and Drew came to get us.